097 E3 
1916 



ECHO 

Newbold Noyes 




Class 

Book- 

Copyiightl^^. 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT 



ECHO 

and Other Verses 



BY 
NEWBOLD NOYES 




BOSTON 

SHERMAN, FRENCH & COMPANY 

1916 






^^d 



^ 



181916 



COPYBIGIIT, 1916 

Shekmak, French df Company 



^C!.A427297 



TO 

ALEXANDRA 



Certain of the poems contained in this 
little book have appeared previously in 
the Yale Literary Magazine. The author 
wishes to make all due acknowledgment to 
the editors of that publication for the 
privilege of reprinting them. 

N. N. 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Echo 1 

The Roses of Rimini 6 

Kit Marlowe 8 

In Pliny's Garden 10 

Amalfi 11 

By the Sea 12 

C ceteris Pariter 13 

Gipsy Song 14 

The Game 15 

A Portrait 16 

The Watcher 17 

Sonnet 18 

Dusk 19 

Faith 20 

Garden o* Dreams 21 

Sequor 22 

Two Women 23 

The Hymn 24' 

The Deserted Garden 25 

Infantus Amor 26 

Maid Marion 27 

Holly 28 

To Dorothy 29 

Grandeamus Igitur BO 

Dreams 31 

The Blue Bird 33 

Ashes 34 

Journey's End 35 

Autumn Leaves 38 

How THE Roses Were First Made Sweet . 39 

A Threat 42 

Michaelmas 43 

St. Valentine's . . 44 

The Sea Gulls 45 



pAdBf 

The Song of the Stars 46 

She Smiled 47 

Question and Answer 48 

A- Passing Thought 50 

Vender of Dreams 51 

Sonnet I 52 

Sonnet II .53 

Sonnet III 54 

Sonnet IV 55 

The Valkyries' Ride 56 

Verse 57 

Three Flowers 58 

She Entered In 59 



ECHO AND OTHER VERSES 



ECHO 

{The scene is in the hills. Dusk is begin- 
ni/ng to fall. Somewhere in the blossoms of a 
wild cherry tree a bird is svnging its vesper 
hymn. Enter the little shepherdess singing.) 

SONG 

Whispered thy voice to me, 

Clear through the breathless night ; 

Mockingly, tenderly, 

Whispered thy voice to me ; 

Vainly I sought for thee. 

Was it some wand'ring sprite 

Whispered thy voice to me, 

Clear through the breathless night? 

[As she finishes singing, she has reached 
the wild cherry tree and stands gazing 
wistfully at the grey -blue hills. ~\ 

Shepherdess 

This surely is the spot where yestereve 
I stood and heard her voice — her golden voice 
That called to me across the mist-veiled fields ! 
We spoke ; she bade me come to her ; but when 

[1] 



I went with gladness singing in my heart 
To this new friend, alas, she'd gone away, 
And though I called and called, no answer 

came 
Through the sweet dusk. Perhaps she has 

come back ; 
Perhaps she did not understand. Once more 
I'll call. Ah, maybe she'll be there to hear! 

[^SJie calls^ 
O little friend, have you come back again? 

l^And from the hills, clear and sweet comes 
a voice. ^ 

Echo 
Again ! 

Shepheedess 

She's there — she came once more ! Ah, happy 

heart \ 
That made me come once more to seek, though 

I, 

Blind doubter, feared she'd not come back to 

me. 
How sweet the falling dusk — no more alone ! 
Listen, my heart, and I'll call once again. 

[She calls^ 
O little friend, I came to you last night 
After we spoke, but you had flown away 
As some wild sprite. Tell me, were you afraid ? 

[2] 



Echo 
Afraid. 

Shepherdess 

But why, ah, why. See, see; I'm just a little 

girl — 
A little, lonely girl. So hungry, dear, 
For some one who would tend the flocks with 

me. 
With me walk hand in hand through those 

sweet fields. 
Always I sing alone. Ah, little friend. 
Will you not sing with me tonight? Say, yes! 

Echo 

Yes. 

\^She sings with EcJio"\ 
Dusk creeps across the lonely fields 
On swiftly moving, velvet feet, 
And all the sunkissed landscape yields 
To this young lover, brave and sweet. 

Today the birds and opal sky ; 
Tomorrow gone! The chill winds moan 
To lull me to my dreams, and I 
Am princess of it all — alone. 

[The shepherdess breaks off with a little 
catch in her voice that is almost a 506.] 
[■3] 



Shepherdess 

The song goes on, yet I can sing no more. 
Ah, little new-found friend, it's been so long 
Since first I prayed for you. A lonely child, 
I've watched my flocks alone ; alone I've 

watched 
God's clouds drift by — white ships upon a sea 
Of deep, deep blue. I've heard the wild birds 

sing 
And longed to share their song. I've watched 

the dawn 
Kiss blushes to the cheeks of drowsy skies, 
And twilight shadows lull the splendid day 
To night's young arms. Always alone I've 

watched. 
And wondered at the hunger in my heart. 
And now you've come and oh, my heart is 

glad — 
You will not leave me now. You'll always 

stay ? 



Always stay 



Echo 



Shepherdess 



Then now I come. Ah, swift, my weary feet. 
Bear me to her whom I have sought so long. 
Once more — once more ! Tell me you're wait- 
ing, dear. 

[4] 



Echo 

Waiting, dear. 

\_She laughs happily and exits, singing 
softly as she goes.^ 
An angel, stealing softly from the skies, 
Bent down and kissed the brow of sleeping 

spring, 
Who stirred and, smiling, opened glad young 

eyes. 
And in the dawn a bird began to sing. 

So you came softly to a heart that lay 
Through the long night alone, nor dreamed of 

spring ; 
And in the ruddy flush of coming day, 
The world seemed sweet — my heart began to 
sing. 

\^As her voice dies away, the birds* song is 
heard once more. Then everything is 
very still in the hushed twilight. And 
after a pause, very faintly in the dis- 
tance comes the voice of the little shep- 
herdess~\ 
O little friend, I cannot find you, dear; 
And I am weary, frightened, and alone. 



[5] 



THE ROSES OF RIMINI 

How fair the garden smiled that day 1 The 

very birds sang joyously; 
Above the sunkissed marble bench each crimson 

rose with passion shook, 
And sunlight fell on Rimini, on Rimini, on 

Rimini — 
On two bowed heads in Rimini, above an open 

book. 

He read — and to that burning tale Frances ca 

barkened wistfully — 
How two had loved long years ago in Arthur's 

town of Camelot. 
And sunset fell on Rimini, on Rimini, on 

Rimini — 
As hand touched hand in Rimini, fair honor 

was forgot. 

Then far beneath the distant hills grey shad- 
ows lengthened tenderly; 

Unheeded on the carven bench lay the sad tale 
of Guinevere. 

And twilight fell on Rimini, on Rimini, on 
Rimini — 

As lips touched lips in Rimini, a single star 
shone clear. 



[6] 



The crimson roses swayed and shook, and then 

they glowed more ruddily. 
One stood alone with haunted eyes where heart 

to heart these two had clung, 
And black night fell on Rimini, on Rimini, on 

Rimini — 
And all was still in Rimini where late the birds 

had sung. 



[7] 



KIT MARLOWE 

Kit Marlowe stood in the tavern hall, 

Head thrown back and his ruff awry ; 

Stood with his back to the smoke-stained wall, 

And the devil's light was in his eye, 

The lace on his sleeve was stained with wine. 

He laughed aloud in the candle shine; 

Reckless and straight in his hot youth's pride: 

" Wine ! bring us wine ! " Kit Marlowe cried. 

He lifted the brimming cup they brought, 
Brushed from his brow his curls' bright gold : 
" To grey-eyed Nell who will wince at naught ! " 
And he drew a rose from his doublet's fold. 
" Lad, dost thou envy the bee that sips 
From the fair red flower of Nell's sweet lips ? " 
" This rose was hers ? " quoth the man at his 

side. 
And, " Aye," as he kissed it. Kit replied. 

The rose was dashed from the lips that kissed. 
And another blossomed above his heart. 
" Let her kiss thee now \ " Nell's lover hissed ; 
" Let her kiss thee swift, ere thy soul depart. 
Thine is the rose, but mine her pledge ! " 
Kit Marlowe swayed at the table's edge ; 
His face was white and his dark eyes wide. 
But, " The rose was sweet," Kit Marlowe 
sighed. 

[8] 



Over his heart the red stain spread, 

And down 'mid the scattered cards and wine, 

Wearily, slowly sank Marlowe's head: 

" Aye, thine was her pledge, but the rose is 

mine. 
And there's that in the rose thou shalt never see. 
Dreams and passion and mystery — 
Nell's soul! But she'll make thee a comely 

bride." 
And laughing softly. Kit Marlowe died. 



[9] 



IN PLINY'S GARDEN 
RONDEAU 

Friend, pause a while, and dream with me 

Beside this lake where Pliny dreamed, 

On whose bowed head the same stars gleamed 

That formed white Dian's panoply. 

Old stars, doth it seem long to thee? 

Strange, this same silver moonlight streamed 
On gardens that as fragrant seemed. 
Did these same winds plead wistfully, 
" Friend, pause a while " ? 

Friend of my heart, it well may be 
That you may pass some day where we 
Together stood and little deemed 
How cunningly the grey fates schemed 
To part us. Then, in memory. 
Friend, pause a while. 



[10] 



AMALFI 

Nestling in shadow, close to rocks green-grey 
Where olive trees are trembling half awake, 
A rose is cradled far above the bay. 
Lulled by the music which the sea winds make. 
The sun has clasped the world in warm embrace ; 
She sleeps, and sleeping smiles in sweet content, 
Beneath a canopy of cloud-spun lace 
Woven from mist to' fairy filament. 

Only the thrush dares sing; and as the sun 
Slips drowsily into the darkening sea. 
The crystal song thrills upward ; one by one 
The stars creep forth to listen wistfully ; 
The landscape fades as distant hills grow dim ; 
The world has heard the golden vesper hymn. 



[11] 



BY THE SEA 

Once on a summer's day I watched the sea — 
A green-clad, whispering maiden, half asleep, 
Whose white arms stretched across the reefs to 

me. 
Whose voice was music, and whose eyes were 

deep. 
O voice which was as her voice — voice of gold ! 
O eyes which were as her eyes — sweet and cold ! 

Then on a winter's day I watched once more : 
Grey wolves that snarled and leapt and fell 

away 
To leap again, white fanged, against the shore 
They once caressed upon a summer's day — 
O thou to whom I gave my heart to hold. 
Who rent thy plaything when the toy was old ! 



[12] 



CMTERIS PARITER 

Chance led me from the paths my feet had 

known, 
And round me things unspeakable made faint 
The senses, blighting with unchallenged taint 
The gipsy winds of June. I stood alone 
Where I had dreamed to find my path most fair, 
And stared with dreadful eyes at what was 

there. 

I stood, heartsick until I raised my eyes : 
And then I saw a little beggar-maid 
Who passed with brave glance, calm and un- 
dismayed. 
Fixed on the sunset glory in the skies. 
She walked enchanted, seeing nothing base — 
And oh, the mirrored sweetness in her face. 



[13] 



GIPSY SONG 

There's a ruddy line of gold that marks where 

sun and earth have kissed, 
And the open trail, the trail we tread, leads to 

it cross the hill, 
While the valley stretching from our feet is 

drenched in fragrant mist ; 
All the world God gives to you and me, dear 

heart, lies hushed and still. 
Just a wand'ring gipsy breeze 
Whisp'ring to the willow trees. 
And the distance-sweetened whistling of a 

lonely whippoorwill. 

Gipsy maid with tangled curls and laughing 

eyes that shine spring-clear. 
Seel the star that shines above the hills, how 

far and pale and fair ! 
Guiding ever to the westward it is calling to us, 

dear. 
And the open trail, the trail we tread, is ever 

leading there. 
Singing joyous, hand in hand 
Down the trail to Gipsy-land, 
We who heard the open calling and who did not 

question where. 



[1*] 



THE GAME 

Fight a good fight, 
Play a square game, 
Despise a lie, 
Make a clean name. 

Be glad of life. 
Stick to your friends, 
Pray to your God — 
So the game ends. 



[15] 



A PORTRAIT 

SONNET 

A GOLDEN beam, light as a child's caress, 
Fell softly on the small, pathetic face — 
So white, so fair, so full of gentle grace — 

And lingering, touched the quaint, high-girdled 
dress 

Of oddly fashioned, simple loveliness — 
All pale old rose, and ivory-tinted lace. 
And from the lilac shadow's soft embrace 

The portrait stood in all its loneliness. 

The wistful lips might almost speak, it seems ; 
Whisper the tale the pleading eyes would 

tell — 
Eyes that have searched so long and never 
found ; 
Such tired eyes, so full of broken dreams ; 

But darkness comes to break the fairy spell ; 
The wistful lips are still in silence bound. 



[16] 



THE WATCHER 

Ah, how long the watch I'm keeping 

While my love lies softly sleeping, 

Still and lovely in the moonlight, with the 

shadowed, misty veil 
Of her hair to hide the whiteness 
Of her shoulders. With what lightness 
Rest the dark, caressing lashes on the velvet 

cheek so pale ! 

Dead, they say. So, patient, kneeling 

I shall watch till dawn comes stealing 

From the dusky purple shadows. Then from 

kneeling I shall rise. 
Gently in my arms I'll take her, 
As of old a kiss shall wake her, 
Lest she tremble at the strangeness of a lonely 

paradise. 



[17] 



SONNET 

Have done with discourse, for my heart is sick 

Of empty speech and vain philosophies ; 

Sick, sick — till children's songs and whisp'ring 

trees 
Are hollow sounds. Yet words fall swift and 

thick — 
Dead leaves that smother ! Once my heart beat 

quick 
With youth and faith ; and then you taught me 

seize 
Your false books, crying, " Virtue's bom of 

these ! " 
And strove to show me light by rhetoric. 
Have done 1 My heart is breaking. I have 

heard 
You overlong. Now, doubting all things true, 
I'll hear a girl's low laugh, a singing bird ; 
Then send your pedant teachings back to you, 
Singing — ah, bravely — in the splendid truth : 
" Virtue is his who holds the heart of Youth ! " 



[18] 



DUSK 

A SINGLE, thin-spun line of flaming gold 
Showed where the sun had slipped away to rest ; 
Beneath the lilac mountains in the west 
Grey shadows deepened, blues became more bold. 

Then from the velvet folds of night's grey gown. 
Low to the hills a single jewel shone 
Pale in the twilight, sovereign, alone — 
Fairer than ever blazed in royal crown. 



[19] 



FAITH 

When the grey ghosts of despair 
Clutch our dreams all young and fair, 
Comrades, shall we then, despairing, 
Cease to dream or trust or dare — 
Yielding meekly, drifting weakly 
In despair? 

Nay, my comrades ; we shall smile 
Through the tears that would defile 
Our young dreams, and bravely smiling, 
Steel our hearts to strife a while. 
Scoffed at, taunted — all undaunted 
We shall smile t 



[20] 



GARDEN O' DREAMS 

I KNEW a garden sweet and fair — 
A sunkissed, fragrant, sheltered place ; 
There were wild flowers growing there 
All careless in their untaught grace. 
Flowers I watched so tenderly 
Were but the happy dreams o' me. 

The shadows were your wind blown hair, 

The sunlight was your happy smile, 

A spring of dreams was hidden there — 

Your eyes, cool, deep ; I knelt awhile 

Thereby. Perhaps the frail wild rose 

I touched was not your cheek. Who knows? 

For dreams are spun from rainbow mist 
And rainbow mist must some day break ; 
'Twas but a red, red rose I kissed. 
Most dear. 'Twas meet that I should wake, 
Yet, ah ! how drear the garden seems. 
Robbed of the flowers of my dreams. 



[21] 



SEQUOR 

One sigh — and I shall yield my hand 
To thee ; then lead me through the night. 
One last look back across the hills 
So golden in thy glad sunlight. 
A singing child is passing by — 
One sigh ! 

One dream ! There steals across the fields 

The liquid warble of a thrush 

So like a little maiden's song 

Of long ago. The twilight hush 

Did never quite so tender seem — 

One dream! 



[22] 



TWO WOMEN 

She passed : God's sweetest handiwork de- 
filed — 

A nameless woman, painted, lost to shame. 

She touched his sleeve. Until he looked, he 
smiled ; 

Then called her by a vile, unmentioned name. 

She did not blush. Her words were strangely 
low: 

" When I was young you did not treat me so.*' 

He passed. There came a little hast'ning maid 
Who sang because her heart was brave and 

sweet. 
Who raised her eyes — untroubled, unafraid — 
And smiled upon the woman of the street. 
I saw her blush and shudder — understood 
That haunting ghost of her lost womanhood. 



[23] 



THE HYMN 

This love, my lady, is a throbbing hymn 

Sung softly in the temple of each soul 

When dusk does shield — the glaring day grown 

dim — 
Two voices blended to a perfect whole ; 
Where strength and weakness are dissolved in 

one 
To sing more sweetly 'neath the golden sun. 

So sweet the song of liquid moonlight seems. 
Ah, dear, the splendid rise in passion's sway ! 
Hark how it drifts to that sweet land of dreams 
Called Home, where little, star-eyed children 

play; 
Where you and I may rest awhile, and then 
Sing gladly on until the last ameijj 



[24] 



THE DESERTED GARDEN 

Beloved, last night I sought thee 'neath the 

stars 
In that still garden where all waits for me, 
Yet was I held without by shadow bars. 
Canst thou not hear my song — wilt thou not 

see? 

Ah, Heart o' Mine, thou didst not know 'twas I 
Who sang my heart out yestereve to thee ; 
Thou didst not turn thy head. I heard thee 

sigh, 
*' Strange that a bird would sing so wistfully." 

And when, as was thy wont, thy lips were 

pressed 
Against our flower. Sweet — I, as of old. 
With trembling hands thy wind blown hair 

caressed — 
I heard thee whisper, shrinking, " I am cold." 

Oh, I have come so far to know thee blind ! 
And sung so sweet, to find thee strange and 

cold! 
The drooping rose is all that I may find ; 
I dreamed thou wouldst be waiting as of old. 



[25] 



INFANTUS AMOR 

Hope, with glad eyes and ruddy golden hair, 

Beseeching — died ; 

Next, she who stood so sure and tall and fair, 

Whom men called Pride; 

And his young Faith, white victim of Despair, 

Fell at their side. 

Then Youth, his golden Youth, so brave and 
wild. 

Fled far away. 

Only a naked, blinded, shiv'ring child — 

Too young to pray, 

Who sang no more, whose rose wreath was de- 
filed — 

Lived out the day. 



[26] 



MAID MARION 

Maid Marion, the kind sun sinks, all ruddy 

gold, beyond the hill. 
The woods are hushed. A single star on night's 

grey gown shines pale and far. 
A thrush's song — the wind's caress — 
Your hand in mine — and oh, how still 
The woodland dusk. Ah, Marion, how happy 

hunted outlaws are! 

Outlawed, they say ! I read my laws in yon 

clear eyes so sweet, so brave. 
Unfettered! Yet my heart is bound in two 

small hands so soft and brown. 
In Nottingham the sheriff's men have dubbed 

me " The Enchanted Knave " — 
A sorry knave, Maid Marion, who trembles at 

a maiden's frown. 

Maid Marion, the crystal song that yonder 

thrush sings unto you, 
The whisp'ring birch, yon murm'ring brook, 

the message of the dying sun — 
What do they say, these staunch old friends 

whom, trusting, I have found most true? 
The brook, the sun, the birch, the thrush — 

each sings two words : " Maid Marion ! " 



[27] 



HOLLY 

Holly I send to my lady so fair, holly I send 

her today; 
For like the holly, my lady is jolly — oh, 

blithe is my lady and gay. 
Laughter as sweet as the sleigh bells at dawn, 

eyes clear as stars above snow. 
Playful and teasing, bewitchingly pleasing, and 

— wholly elusive, you know. 

Wholly elusive! The fates seem abusive I've 

followed my lady so long — 
Followed her laughter that comes drifting after 

her, sweeter than ever was song. 
Yet there's an end to the j oumey, I guess ; and 

if she smile at the end. 
Smiling I'll greet her there, and 'twill be sweeter 

there — hence this glad holly I'll send. 



[28] 



To DOROTHir 

I SEND my pen with stem command 
To write the things I fain would say ; 
So take it in your slender hand 
And bid the poor thing write away. 

Think of the things that it might write ! 
Tenderly foolish — most unwise ; 
Give it a chance some lonely night, 
Out of the reach of spying eyes. 

And if it fails in this, my trust, 
Lay it upon some shadowed shelf. 
Buried in shame and drifting dust. 
And I will tell you all — myself ! 



[29] 



GitANDEAMVS IGITUR 

I SAW the tides yearn upward through the night 
Toward the young moon they loved all 

rev'rently, 
I saw my flowers' love for golden light, 
The stars that gaze throughout eternity 
Upon the sleeping world. Their patience 

seemed 
So beautiful. This, then, was love, I deemed. 

Aye, beautiful. And yet tonight I know 
That love of man for maid is not as theirs. 
The swift desire — the singing heart — and oh, 
The wonder-joy of man who loves and dares 
To touch and hold his goddess ! Stars and sea. 
What joy of yours can match that ecstasy? 



[30] 



BREAMS 

In the land of sunny dreams, almost ages past 

it seems, 
I believed in tiny fairies as all other kiddies do ; 
But I'm older now, you see — grown up fast 

and horridly — 
And I don't know where my little friends have 

all gone to. 

I was king and you were queen, as today we 
might have been 

If we hadn't grown so critical and most out- 
rageous wise — 

Might be back in fairyland, playing joyous, 
hand in hand, 

Happy in our tiny kingdom in the land beyond 
the skies. 

Barefoot king and blue-eyed queen — you and 

I and meadows green. 
Sweetheart, do you still remember each long, 

happy day back there — 
Each wild, happy plan we made; trusting, 

laughing, unafraid. 
With a royal crown of daisies on your sunkissed, 

golden hair? 



[31] 



But all that has gone before ; gone — and 
locked the fast closed door, 

And we mayn't go back because we heard what 
other people said ; 

Gone our castles, starlit, fair; gone our fairy- 
land back there — 

To the distant hills where children's dreams lie 
broken now and dead. 



[sa] 



THE BLUE BIRD 

Love came ! Love came ! It was wild and 

free; 
It rested a moment upon my hand 
As a bird might nestle. So tremblingly 
I held it close, sought to understand 
That my winged dream had come home at last. 
Dear, was it strange that I held it fast ? 

Aye, I held it fast ; and the hands that sought 
To comfort a little and teach it stay, 
Bruised and frightened this love that brought 
Heaven awhile, so it flew away. 
And I search the dusk for its wild, fleet wings — 
Put out in the darkness my lost love sings. 



[33] 



ASHES 

We knelt by the fire, you and I, and the heat 

of the glowing brands 
Crept from its red, red heart of flame out to our 

shiv'ring hands — 
Out to our hearts till the chill was gone, and 

the quiv'ring scarlet flame 
Had seared with a brand we two called love. 

Slowly the grey dawn came. 

We knelt by the fire and watched it die, ashes 

of bitter shame. 
It had burned so warmly throughout the night ! 

Now, as the grey dawn came, 
The flame that had burned so warm grew dim ; 

the coals that had glowed so red 
Faded before our shiv'ring hands. One of us 

whispered, " Dead " ; 
And the echo that came to the whispered word 

was all that the other said. 



[34] 



JOURNEY'S END 

Alexandra, little lady from an age forgotten 

now — 
Age of crinolines and lilacs, age of candlelight 

and peace — 
There was kindness in the magic that has 

brought you here somehow. 
For I, too, was near forgetting. Even dreams, 

when starved, must cease 
To enchant us. Then the fragrance of my 

dream was bom anew, 
And the search seemed glad and hopeful for I 

knew my dream was true. 

For my dream was of the Southland ; there were 

lilacs everywhere, 
And their fragrance drenched the starlight ; 

there was music hushed and sweet. 
So she came, my dear Dream Lady, came and 

found me waiting there 
Where the willow bent above us. Low she 

curtsied. At her feet 
I had knelt. We are forgetting that it is no 

shame to kneel 
To the things we hold most sacred — to the 

faith we know is real. 



[35] 



Ashen-gold her hair — the wooing of the breeze 

had lured a curl 
Till, a rebel from its bondage, it lay softly 

'gainst her cheek. 
All the gentle poise of woman, all the shyness 

of a girl ! 
Do you wonder that 'twas kneeling that I raised 

my eyes to speak — 
Raised my eyes and met the pity of her gaze, 

wherein I read 
That the dream I dared was shattered ere the 

gentle words were said? 



What was said there 'neath the willow need not 

matter here today. 
Save the vow that, cross the border, lead by all 

that never dies, 
I should find her in the starlight, kneel as I 

knelt there, and pray 
That the weary search be ended — read my 

heaven in her eyes. 
So I seek — nor have forgotten that dim garden 

long ago, 
With my Dream Girl in the starlight where the 

lilac blossoms grow. 



[36] 



Alexandra, little lady from an age forgotten 

now — 
Age of crinoline and lilacs, age of candlelight 

and peace — 
There was kindness in the magic that has 

brought you here somehow, 
For I, too, was near forgetting. Even dreams, 

when stan^ed, must cease 
To enchant us. Now the fragrance of my 

dreams is born anew, 
And the search seems glad and hopeful for I 

know my dream is true. 



[37] 



AUTUMN LEAVES 

I WATCHED the leaves fall softly yesterday, 
Dull red and tarnished gold from yonder tree ; 
And as I watched, a gipsy breeze at play 
Bore them I knew not whither — tenderly. 

So we, as spring and summer pass us by, 
Dance in the sunlight on the rugged trees. 
And are, untaught from whence we came, or 

why. 
Whirled breathless back to His eternity. 



[38] 



HOW THE ROSES WERE FIRST MADE 

SWEET 

My fairies had lit the silver moon and hung it 

with gentle care 
At the tip-tip-top of the willow tree in the 

Garden-of-Happy-Dreams 
Ages and ages ago, my dear. And only the 

fairies there 
Know of the magic which happens then ; and, 

curious though it seems. 
No one save me has ever heard the tale which 

the fairies tell 
Of " how the roses were first made sweet by a 

little Dream-girl's spell," 
For the fairies say that the world would jeer 
If it knew the stories they tell me, dear ! 

The fairies had fashioned a perfect rose in that 

garden of long ago, 
And when it was finished the fairy queen had 

summoned her elfin band ; 
So, clad in raiment of rainbow mist tinged with 

the sunset's glow. 
They gathered. She said, " In the uttermost 

parts of this cynical, mortal land. 
There dwells a maiden. Her heart is young ; all 

that is sweet is she ; 



[39] 



She shall touch our rose with her gentle hands 
that it, too, sweet may be." 
Oh, but the fairy queen was wise ! 
But, then, she had seen the maiden's eyes. 

Bound in a thousand moonbeam chains the lit- 
tle Dream-girl came. 

And her eyes were deep with a maiden's dreams, 
her smile was a sacrament. 

For all she knew of this earth was joy, nothing 
of tears or shame. 

And straight to the roses, waiting there, with 
eager steps she went ; 

Kissed each rose with her warm, red lips ; passed 
with her velvet feet ; 

And when she had gone, the starlit night was 
suddenly wondrous sweet 
With the fragrance of each enchanted rose : 
So my fairy says — and my fairy knows \ 

The roses my Dream-girl kissed that night, the 
roses which she made sweet. 

Bloomed and died. But the fairy folk — my 
fairies who never die — 

Gathered the petals. Fairy wings, eager and 
light and fleet, 

Bore them away long years ago. Now from the 
starlit sky 

They have brought them back to me; whis- 
pered low, so nobody else could hear, 

[40] 



'* Take them to her who caressed them once." 
And so I have brought them, dear. 
And oh, I am sure you will understand 
And that you believe in a fairyland ! 



[41] 



A THREAT 

A MAIDEN of your temperament 
Was surely made for sentiment, 
And not to be so continent 

With all her maiden charm. 
So 'twould not be impertinent 
If I should — quite by accident ! 
Speak forth in accents eloquent. 

It should not cause alarm. 

For, dear, this fact is evident — 
That you were made for sentiment, 
And so your danger's imminent ; 

I can't repress my heart ! 
So, when the time proves provident 
For you and me, the incident 
That you may call most impudent 

Will happen ere we part. 



[42] 



MICHAELMAS 
TRIOLET 

I SEND this sprig of mistletoe 

To jou. Then bind it in your hair. 

'Tis glad, mad Michaelmas, and so 

I send you this sprig of mistletoe. 

The world is Love's today, you know, 

And Love is pleading, " Take his dare.' 

I send this sprig of mistletoe 

To you. Then bind it in your hair. 



[43] 



ST. VALENTINE'S 

TRIOLET 

He bears a message back to you — 
Dan Cupid does — a happy vow, 
So short, yet, oh, so brave and true ! 
He bears a message back to you ; 
He smiles when he had read it through ; 
I wonder are you smiling now. 
He bears a message back to you — 
Dan Cupid does — a happy vow. 



[44] 



THE SEA GULLS 

An ancient saga tells us how the moon, 
Drifting in silver splendor 'mid the stars, 
Was loved by and did love the restless sea 
With love that was as hopeless as 'twas great. 
For though the moon dipped nightly toward 

the sea, 
And though the sea forever sought the moon. 
Some cruel god whose heart was cold to love 
Ordained the longed-for kiss should never be. 
Then weeping softly in her great despair, 
The silver moon sent tears through endless 

space 
To search forever for the pulsing heart 
That lies deep, deep below the sobbing sea. 
And as the moon's tears neared the restless deep 
They turned from liquid moonlight to white 

birds, 
And from the sorrow of the weeping moon 
God fashioned with His hand the first sea gull. 

• •••••• 

And still in hopeless eagerness they search 
With plaintive, wistful cries for that great 

heart 
That throbs and surges toward the waiting 

moon. 



[45] 



THE SONG OF THE STARS 

Know you the song that the pale stars sing 

Where the snow lies deep and white, 

And you greet the sting of the keen, pure air 

On a northern winter's night? 

When the whole world sleeps save you alone, 

And the ghosts of the pine trees stir and moan, 

Oh, hark to the song that the pale stars sing 

When the trail lies clean and white! 

They sing the song of a million years 

Of waiting and watching there. 

'Tis a song of infinite tenderness. 

Never a note of despair. 

They have seen us shatter our sacred dreams. 

But oh, how trusting their low song seems — 

'Tis the lilting song that the pale stars sing 

When the trail lies clean and white! 

They have seen men falter and curse and fall, 

And they whisper of love and truth. 

They know the fetters that bind us all. 

But they sing of our unstained youth. 

So, weary of scoffing and sick with pain. 

Step out on the northern hills again 

And hark to the song that the pale stars sing 

When the trail lies clean and white! 



[46] 



SHE SMILED 

She smiled — the grey day changed to gold 
For me, as always at her smile ; 
And by that smile made sudden bold, 
Restraint did quit me for a while. 
Because it really seemed, you see, 
My lady's smile was meant for me. 

She listened when I spoke, and slow 

Elf-laughter crept into her eyes ; 

I saw it there, alas, and so 

Gone was my world of sunny skies, 

Which was not strange because, you see, 

I knew my lady smiled at me\ 



[47] 



QUESTION AND ANSWER 

She said, "Nay, tell me, friend; the justice 

show 
In the grim truth. A butterfly is born 
To live but one brief day. Then if the morn 
On which the dark is shattered and the glow 
Of life shows flame be drab — and bleak winds 

blow 
If it should rain — till, bruised, with brave 

wings torn. 
It welcomes night and death: may it not scorn 
The myths of sunlit worlds? 'Twere fairer so. 
Within it surged the glamour of its hopes ; 
It did not understand a world of pain. 
Where were the singing birds, the gentle slopes 
Where daisies grew ? — Naught but the cruel 

rain. 
It dreamed of flowers and of golden flight — 
And found the day more bitter than the night." 

I answered, " Yet the storm that crushed its 

dreams 
Of what life held for it was naught but rain 
Life-laden, bearing hope and faith again 
To some forgotten primrose. Little streams 
Sang sweeter for its coming. Nay, it seems 
Their song did cheer the butterfly, the pain 
Of death made glad, for each unsightly stain 

[48] 



On earth was cleansed to greet the next sun- 
beams. 
And oh, the wonder-joy of the unborn 
When life displays the freshened, sunkissed 

earth ! 
And oh, their gladness on each golden morn 
Of the tomorrows, soaring from their birth ! 
Should not the butterfly by faith foresee 
The plan of some all-wise divinity ? " 

She asked. I saw her puzzled, hopeless eyes. 
And answered — though I knew my words were 
lies. 



[49] 



A PASSING THOUGHT 

Watakusi — wasuki — masu 

Means in ardent Chinese, " I love you,' 

But I think should I say it 

In any such way it 

Would hardly appeal, dear, to you ! 



[50] 



VENDER OF DREAMS 

Vender of dreams am I, come from the skies. 
Youth, would you care to buy, you with glad 

eyes ? 
All of my fairy hoard spread at your feet. 
Dew drenched, for you outpoured — dreams 

brave and sweet. 
Dreams of a shadow face, dreams of worlds 

won; 
All at your feet I place — would you buy one? 

Pay with a golden smile, pay with a kiss — 
All of yon starlit pile, all yours for this t 
They are your heritage shaped 'mid the stars. 
Buy ! ere the hand of age, blundering, mars. 
For with each smile you buy youth's paradise ! 
Vender of dreams am I, come from the skies. 



[51] 



SONNET I 

See, in the dusk I seek my altar, dear — 
A shadow image in the dim half-light 
Of you whom we have knelt to. Now, at night 
I kneel alone and know the haunting fear 
Of one who kneels when what is dead lies near. 
Dead Love — and I, a trembling acolyte, 
Still seek to keep Love's altar draped in white, 
To cleanse each stain with a forbidden tear. 

Your picture is my altar. You have taught 

Me all I know of heaven ; so today 

I cannot seek new gods, and still I kneel 

To Avhat is tarnished. For all faith were 

naught 
Could the blind world now win my faith away — 
Faith in the faltered words, " No ; this is real." 



[52] 



SONNET II 

Only an old, old song that will not die, 
But sings itself forever in my brain, 
A lilting melody — again — again — 
As once you sang it to me, dear. And I, 
List'ning tonight as once before, must lie 
And know at last that each low, tender strain 
Is but a part of all the mocking pain 
Of memories that will not out. Yet why? 

Only a song you sang. And yet I see 
You singing, dear, in the soft dusk, your hair 
Stirred by a vagrant breeze. It seemed to me 
Some little angel — lost — was singing there 
To keep her heart still brave. 'Tis but a song, 
Yet somehow all seems strangely blind and 
wrong. 



[5S] 



SONNET III 

Three things had I on which I sought to build 
My faith in all the universe. These three 
Were all that stood between the dark and me ; 
Yet, having them, my world seemed ever filled 
With happiness, and all fierce doubt was stilled. 
My God was one, to whom all rev'rently 
I knelt ; my love, the second ; finally, 
There was my friend. Too full my cup? It 
spilled. 

And now I know my God was strangely blind, 
Else why had her feet stumbled? Now at last 
All love a quaintly woven myth I find ; 
When once the ecstasies of dreams are passed. 
The grey fates weave — we may not ask what 

end. 
Three things had I. Now one remains — my 

friend. 



[54] 



SONNET IV 

Last night I knelt alone in hopeless prayer, 
And to me kneeling, came a shrouded guest 
Whose eyes were shadowed with a great unrest. 
Methought that in another world somewhere 
I'd seen them happy. Now with tearless stare 
They gazed upon me. Close to her thin breast 
A wreath of withered roses now she pressed. 
And to her knees rippled her unbound hair. 

I strove to speak. Was it some dream long 

gone 
In which I knew this girl? Then at her feet 
She cast the roses — slowly trod thereon. 
The withered roses, once so brave and sweet ! 
*' Who are thou, friend? " I whispered brokenly. 
And, " I am Love," a low voice answered me. 



[55] 



THE VALKYRIES' RIDE 

Out of the North we ride, we ride ; 

Swinging along 'neath the blood red sky, 

Eagerly, silently, side by side ; 

And a thousand years of whiteness lie 

At our feet as we race with a slackened rein - 

Valkyries, choosers of the slain! 

Swifter, swifter ; the ride is long ! 

Look, where the snow is trodden and red ! 

Hushed the clamor of battle song ; 

Men of the North have fought and bled. 

And falling, laughed ! They shall fight again - 

Valkyries, choosers of the slain! 

See where the ravens float and weave ! 
Those whom we seek are not alone, 
For women must wait and watch and grieve. 
Aye, we are here — hear the wounded moan ! 
Choose ye well ; we must on again ! 
Valkyries, choosers of the slain ! 

Back to the North we ride, we ride. 

Swinging along 'neath the flaming sky. 

Eagerly, silently, side by side ; 

And a thousand years of whiteness lie 

At our feet as we race with a slackened rein -- 

Valkyries, choosers of the slain ! 

[56] 



VERSE 

Gob bless you ! Merry Christmas, dear my 

friend ! 
What if the phrase be ancient ? Even so, 
The thousands who have whispered it, I know, 
Each had no purpose save that in the end 
The phrase, made sweet throughout antiquity, 
Should bear the happy wish to you from me. 

God bless you ! Merry Christmas ! If today 

This wish which I proclaim to be mine own 

Because 'tis clearly meant for you alone, 

Be echoed — and I doubt not that it may 

Be so ; if thousands whisper, " Bless you," 

too — 
'Tis well ! The world-wide wish will be for you. 



[57] 



THREE FLOWERS 

Three flowers alone 'neath a willow once 

grew — 
Larkspur and rose and a lily so fair ; 
And I alone in the whole world knew 
Of the three little flowers that grew down 

there. 

'Twas a red, red rose and a lily white, 

And the color of larkspur most every one 

knows ; 
And they grew and were sweet in the warm sun- 

light. 
The lily and the larkspur and red, red rose. 

Three flowers now grow in my dreams, most 

dear — 
Rose and lil}^ and larkspur blue ; 
And I alone know the three are here — 
The brow and the eyes and the lips of you ! 

Anita, Anita 1 The white lilies fade. 

And the larkspur droops, and red roses must 

die. 
But the flowers the warmth in a boy's heart 

made 
Will live forever ! Do you know why ? 



[58] 



SHE ENTERED IN 

I BUILT a temple in my heart 
For my new love. And oh, 'twas fair. 
All marble white and gold it was — 
Proud angels sang forever there. 
And when the splendid work was done 
There came a maid with tangled hair. 

She entered in — my boyhood's love — 
And smiled a trembling, wistful smile ; 
Then stood and looked with frightened eyes 
The angels hushed their song awhile. 
She shivered in the silent place 
Which childish hands might ne'er defile. 

She touched the gold — it turned to dross ; 

The marble crumbled 'neath her hand ; 

Only a wasted ruin lay 

Where once a temple used to stand. 

And then she fled on velvet feet 

Into a mystic shadow-land. 

And on the crumbling ruins there, 
I built a little, sheltered shrine ; 
White roses hide the marble now. 
There is no gold save God's sunshine. 
And I am waiting, little maid. 
For thee to claim what now is thine. 

[69] 



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